


Companion

by ericaismeg



Series: 30 Days of Writing [15]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 30 Days of Writing, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, Bullying, Enemies to Friends, Fighting, M/M, Travel, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-12
Updated: 2014-05-12
Packaged: 2018-01-24 12:57:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1605989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ericaismeg/pseuds/ericaismeg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek and Stiles don't like each other. They always get into explosive fights, and play pranks on one another. Well, Coach Finstock has had enough of it. He threatens to kick them off the lacrosse team if they don't find a way to be nice to each other - their test is to be companions for the away game trip on the weekend.</p>
<p>It's easier than they expect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Companion

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm attempting this [ writing challenge.](http://foxerica.tumblr.com/post/84097258077/felicitygs-spontaneousfangasm)
> 
> Day Fifteen. (HALF WAY MARK!)
> 
> Word of the day: companion.
> 
> WARNING: There's a little...uh, roughness at the beginning (wrist grabbing/shove). But like that's it.

 

            “You're _such_ an asshole,” Stiles bites out as he yanks his wrist free from Derek's grip. He rubs it, hating that Derek had actually managed to hurt him again. His jaw clenches as he looks at him with annoyance.

            God today is so not the day to mess with him. Stiles had gone downstairs this morning to receive a full-blown lecture on why his dad does _not_ want to receive another phone call from their principal because “Derek and Stiles are acting up again”. The lecture had been followed by his dad's sigh of disappointment and the words, “ _Your mother could've stopped you from behaving like this._ ”

            Then Stiles had gotten a text from Scott, who had decided to pick up Allison before school. That wouldn't have been _that_ big of a deal, except that Stiles had quickly learned that on the days that Scott picks up Allison for school, Stiles doesn't see Scott. He'd make plans with Allison on the car ride over for lunch and after class.

            It's also Thursday, which means that Lydia and Jackson will be going on their usual lunch date down to _Fancy's_ , a diner on Queen and Church that ironically, isn't fancy. Since no one had been around for lunch except Stiles, Danny had asked Ethan on an impromptu date. Ethan, who'd had the biggest crush on Danny for the past three years, had accepted with excitement.

            It means that Stiles had to spend lunch alone. He didn't mind. He went to the library, pleased that he could avoid Derek and his usual argument. Stiles hasn't had many breaks from his constant fighting with Derek in the past two years. The principal had almost given up on them, but they kept promising to do better.

            Stiles isn't sure who started this feud anymore, just that it never seems to end. Sometimes Stiles gets to the end of the last class without an encounter with Derek, but they always seem to come before he gets into his Jeep to go home. If it wasn't in the halls, it was in the locker room at lacrosse practice, or on the field.

            Sometimes Derek shoves Stiles' shoulder—it's never rough though—and sometimes Stiles shoves him back. They mainly just scream at each other. Stiles has said some shitty things in the past, but so has Derek. They're always on even ground for that shit.

            Scott had begged Stiles to just let the feud with Derek go, to stop taking his bait and raising his voice, to ignore Derek. It's become impossible though. Stiles had been excited today, because he'd managed to avoid Derek _all_ day.

            He'd gone back to the library after the last class, since Scott had texted him to cancel plans, and gotten some homework done. Stiles had figured that Derek would have been home by now. Only Stiles had walked out of the library at the same time basketball practice ends apparently.

            Derek had been a bit rougher today, grabbing Stiles' wrist to stop him from walking away. There's unleashed anger written all over Derek's face, but Stiles knows that he would never seriously hurt Stiles. It'd been an unspoken rule. Even Jackson body checked Stiles harder than Derek would during practice.

            Still, the action had been unexpected.

            “What the _hell_ , dude?” Stiles demands as he rubs his wrist. He glares at Derek. “One day. We can't go one fucking day without attacking each other.”

            “I know it was you,” Derek growls. If he didn't look ready to kill Stiles, he would've thought the way his voice sounds is hot as fuck. Stiles waves his hands around, motioning for Derek to continue because he has _no_ idea what the hell he's talking about. “How could you? Whatever this fucking thing is between us, it's between _us_. We've never dragged other people into it.”

            Stiles sighs. “And there's your answer, asshole. I clearly didn't do whatever it is you think I did.”

            “Oh no, I know it was you.” Derek stabs his finger into Stiles' shoulder. “And I'm going to fucking get you back.”

            “Oh I'm so scared,” Stiles says, sarcasm dripping from his voice. He rolls his eyes, with a slight shake o his head. “I'm sure I'd love to take credit for whatever the fuck you're rambling about, but _I can't if I don't know what it is_.”

            “Just think back to the worse thing you've done to me recently,” Derek deadpans. He looks fiercely certain in his belief though.

            Stiles tries to think. Had he done something to Derek and forgotten about it? It seems unlikely. He's enjoyed making Derek's life difficult over the past two years. He'd vandalized Derek's locker a few times—painted insults on the door, put crazy glue in his lock and closed it so Derek had to get the janitor to cut it off, had stuck some love letters from a secret admirer that Derek _totally_ fell for.

            He'd stolen Derek's homework before, had switched Derek's papers so he'd get caught for plagiarism—god had Stiles' dad been _pissed_ about that—and he'd put colour dye in Derek's stupid volcano project. His lava had come out bright pink, and Stiles had heard all about Derek's high-pitched squeak when he'd been presenting it.

            There'd been the time that Stiles had almost gotten Derek fired from his stupid coffee shop job, but the Hales owned it so Stiles isn't sure there was a real threat there. Stiles had also put itching powder in Derek's lacrosse shorts—that'd been funny as hell to watch—and he'd put crushed estrogen pills into Derek's protein drink (thank you, _John Tucker Must Die_ for the inspiration). Stiles had even cat-fished Derek online and he'd been stood up _three_ times.

            But Stiles hadn't involved anyone in their pranks before, and had never wanted to, so he has no idea what Derek is talking about.

            “Give me a clue.”

            Derek growls. Stiles gives him his best unimpressed look, even though his heart pounds a little harder.

            Derek had retaliated to each one of Stiles' pranks. He'd taken Stiles' locker door off at one point so Stiles had gotten in shit for 'removing school property'--Stiles is positive that Derek still has his locker door somewhere at his house. Then Derek had stuck some dead fish at the bottom of his locker, underneath some textbooks that Stiles hadn't moved all semester. God, that had reeked.

            He'd ripped up Stiles' homework in front of his face before, knowing it was due in five minutes, and then there was that time that Derek had switched the cover pages on Jackson and Stiles' assignments so Stiles had received a D. It'd been a hassle proving that one.

            He'd also covered Stiles' Jeep in sticky notes once. The entire thing. It'd been ridiculous, and Stiles had laughed at it. He'd called Derek an amateur, except each sticky note had had a new insult on it. Stiles hadn't been that upset, even if it'd taken him an hour to take them all off. Maybe his self-esteem had taken a little bit of a hit too, only because Derek had written ' ** _lonely_** ' on one. It'd been too close to home.

            There'd been the time that Derek had almost gotten him kicked off the lacrosse team, but Coach decided they needed Stiles to stick around to keep the minimum number of team members required. Derek had also put dye in Stiles' shampoo, which had made his hair a strange blonde-orange colour for about a week. Luckily he hadn't done anything permanent.

            Derek had also stolen Stiles' clothing one night after practice, so he'd walked to his Jeep bare-ass naked. He'd kept his cool, walking across the front lawn as if nothing was out of the ordinary. Derek had been the only one left in the parking lot, other than Stiles, so it hadn't been that bad.

            “You told Paige that I have _herpes_ ,” Derek spits.

            Stiles snorts, before a laugh tumbles out. “Dude, I so did not do that, but dammit. I've seen _John Tucker Must Die_ like six times because of Lydia and Allison. I should've thought of it.”

            “What?” Derek says, blinking. He steps towards Stiles. “No, you fucking did it!”

            “Did it occur to you,” Stiles asks, his tone dry, “that I'm not the only one who doesn't like you?”

            Derek rolls his eyes. “This has you written all over it. Why are you denying it?”

            “Why would I tell Paige?” Stiles asks, shrugging. “That's too personal, dude. I'd tell the whole school if I was going to do that.”

            “No!” Derek says, lunging forward. He puts his arm across Stiles' chest as he stumbles into the wall. “No, no, no, you did it. _I_ know you did it! Just fucking admit it!”

            “ _Boys_ ,” a sharp tone comes. “Don't tell me you're fighting _again_.”

            Stiles and Derek freeze at the sound of Coach's voice. Stiles winces. He doesn't actually want to be kicked off the lacrosse team, and he knows it could happen if they keep it up. Derek's the captain, so he's safe. “No, sir?”

            “Hale, back away from Stilinski,” Coach demands. Derek does, and then Stiles lets out the breath he wasn't aware he'd been holding. “I have had enough of this bullshit. You two are going to come to my office first thing in the morning. If I don't decide to kill you both, you'll be lucky. Now _go home_.”

            “But Coach—”

            “I don't care. I want to go home, so get out of my sight,” Coach demands.

            Derek takes off one way, Stiles goes another. Both of them had parked in the same parking lot at the front of the school, but neither of them look at each other when they arrive at the same time.

            Stiles gets into his Jeep and debates on whether he should text Scott. He decides against it and pulls out of the parking lot.

            _Fuck_. He doesn't want Coach to kick him off the lacrosse team. It's the only time he gets to see Scott these days.

 

**♚♞♚♞♚♞**

 

            Coach doesn't kick him off the team. No, actually, what Coach does is _so_ much worse. Stiles stands up in protest. “No! You can't do that! We'll _kill_ each other.”

            “Good, then I won't have to listen to your stupid fighting anymore,” Coach says dismissively. “Sit down, Stilinski.”

            He does, but he crosses his arms with a huff, and doesn't look at Derek. Derek says, “Coach, I have to agree with Stiles. We'll kill each other if you do this.”

            “Well consider it done,” Coach says, with a determined look. “You two will be _buddies_ for the entire away game trip this weekend. That means sitting beside each other on the bus, rooming together, eating together, breathing together, and shitting together. I don't want you two to leave each other's sides or you'll _both_ be off the team. And Derek, you know what that means.”

            Stiles glances at Derek now. _He_ doesn't know what that means, but Derek's hands curl into fists, and he tenses quite a bit. It's an interesting reaction. Stiles then says, “I really don't think this is a good idea.”

           “If you don't finish the weekend as friends, or fuck, acquaintances, then I'm done with both of you. Is that understood?” Coach demands.

            “Yes, sir,” Derek says, his voice tight and clipped.

            “Whatever,” is Stiles' response.

            “Is that understood?” Coach repeats.

            “Yes, sir,” Stiles mutters.

            “Good, now get out of my sight. I don't want to see or hear either of you until tomorrow morning at the bus.” Coach picks up a piece of paper to read over and Stiles leaves the office first.

            He looks at Derek, who is giving him a death glare. It's not until they're out into the hallway near the front of the school that Derek stops Stiles. He pushes him against the lockers and says, his voice dark, “If you fucking mess this up and we get kicked off the lacrosse team, I _will_ make you regret it.”

            “Is that a threat or a promise?” Stiles barks out. Honestly though, he doesn't want to know how Derek will make him regret it.

            “Both,” Derek mutters. He steps away. “Don't fuck this up, Stilinski. Try to make it work.”

            “Whatever, Hale,” Stiles shouts after him. But as he watches the guy retreat through the doors, Stiles is left more than confused. He's a little aroused. What _is_ it about Derek Hale that gets his blood boiling? He doesn't want to think about it. It's probably self-destructive beahaviour if he goes down that path.

 

**♚♞♚♞♚♞**

 

            “So we're not going to be bus buddies?” Scott asks, disappointment ringing in his voice. Stiles shakes his head. He puts his hand on the back of Stiles' back. “At least we can sit near each other!”

            “Not happening,” Coach says, pointing a finger at them. “McCall, you'll be at the front near me. Bilinski, at the back with Hale so I don't have to hear it.”

            Stiles pouts at Scott, but he doesn't argue. Not this morning, because he sees Derek arguing with his mother at their car, and that's a sufficient distraction for him. Derek waves a hand in the air, jerking it slightly, and whatever he says is shot down by his mother with a look. He grabs his bag in a typical angry teenager motion, and then storms over to the bus.

            “God, good _luck_ ,” Scott murmurs when Derek walks up to them. He shoots a glare at Stiles, who follows him onto the bus wordlessly.

            Derek picks the very last seat and then shoves his bag on the rack above it. Then he sits down with a huff, and Stiles slowly follows suit.

            He pulls out his headphones, and plugs it into his iPhone. He glances over at Derek, who has a book in his hand. Maybe they could do this.

            It's not until about twenty minutes later that Stiles gets bored. He pulls out a headphone and looks at Derek, who focuses on his book. “Whatcha reading?”

            Derek doesn't acknowledge the question.

            “Dude, I'm _trying_. You told me to try. Least you could do is answer my polite question,” Stiles says. There's no anger in his tone, which is unusual for when he's talking to Derek.

            “ _Frankenstein_ ,” Derek mutters.

            “Whoa, really?” Stiles beams at Derek, only because _they have something in common._ “I love that book!”

            Derek raises his head at that. He eyes Stiles carefully. “Do you now? What's your favourite part?”

            There's a challenge in his voice, because he's skeptical that Stiles actually likes the book, but Stiles doesn't care. Stiles will win this round. He smirks and quotes, “ _'I, the miserable and the abandoned, am an abortion, to be spurned at, and kicked, and trampled on_ '. That's my favourite part—quote, anyway.”

            Derek blinks brightly. “You _memorized_ it?”

            Stiles shrugs. “I have a crazy memory for things I like. What can I say?”

            Derek shakes his head. “Nothing. Let me read.”

            “What part are you at?” Stiles asks, leaning over. Derek tilts the book away from him, and shoots him a glare.

            “Just because we like the same book, doesn't mean that I'm not still mad at you.” Derek frowns at him, and then mutters, “Can I just read in peace?”

            “Fine,” Stiles says. He puts his headphone back into his ear and pulls his phone out.

 

**STILES:** _I'm dying, omg, I tried to bond with him and he shut me down!_

**SCOTT:** _I think you're going to have to get used to that  
_ **SCOTT:** _but I'm proud of you for trying, what about?_

**STILES:** _he's reading Frankenstein_

**SCOTT:** _you love that book!_

**STILES:** _I KNOW. this weekend sucks already!_

**SCOTT:** _could be worse, I guess  
_ **SCOTT:** _at least you're not yelling at each other?_

**STILES:** _I guess dude  
_ **STILES:** _he's still a dick though_

**SCOTT:** _of course_

**STILES:** _what's it like up there?_

**SCOTT:** _oh man, Danny is so funny today!  
_ **SCOTT:** _I'm pretty sure he and Ethan are getting laid tonight so maybe you're lucky you're not going to be in our room!_

**STILES:** _I'd rather watch them have sex than be stuck with Mr. Grump  
_ **STILES:** _at least Danny and Ethan are hot—who took my place?_

**SCOTT:** _Isaac did! he's pretty cool but quiet  
_ **SCOTT:** _it's been a nice break from someone I know ;)_

**STILES:** _jerkbutt_

            The rest of the bus ride is spent in silence. There are only a few exceptions when Derek answers a phone call and shuts whoever called down quickly. He simply says, “ _Busy_.” and hangs up. Because he's an asshole. Stiles had tried to ask who called, but Derek had just glared.

            Another time, Derek breaks the silence by demanding Stiles to 'type quieter' and Stiles had continued to stab the screen. Derek had only rolled his eyes, and gone back to his book. After that, Stiles types softer though.

**♚♞♚♞♚♞**

            “This is our room?” Stiles asks, his voice squeaking and betraying him. He looks at Derek in a panic. They'd always been in rooms with two double beds, and four people. Stiles hadn't even considered the fact that Derek and Isaac might not have been with two other guys. There's a big fat queen size bed in the center of the room _and nothing else_.

            Derek passes Stiles and sets down his bag. “There has to be a mistake. Isaac and I were supposed to room with Jackson and Boyd.”

            “Well, I don't think we are,” Stiles mumbles. He drops his bag on the opposite side of the bed. Derek shakes his head, as if he doesn't believe this.

            Then he's storming down the hall. Stiles lets him go, because he has a feeling that Coach did this on purpose. God _dammit_. He doesn't want to be trapped alone in a room with Derek Hale. He rubs the back of his neck hard and then kicks his shoes off.

            Coach is going to shut down Derek and kick him back to the room, so Stiles might as well get comfortable. When Derek comes back into the room, he slams the door behind him. “This is bullshit. What did _we_ do to deserve this?”

            “Other than cause a huge disturbance every chance we cross paths at school?” Stiles asks. “Goodness, I have no idea.”

            “I blame you,” Derek tells him.

            Stiles snorts at how serious he looks. “Yeah, well I blame you. I spent the entire day avoiding you, and then you attacked me for something I didn't even do.”

            Derek studies Stiles carefully. There's a beat before he asks, “You didn't tell Paige that I have herpes?”

            Stiles shakes his head. “No, dude. I _told_ you. I would've announced that to the whole school if I were to do that. Why would I want to prevent you from going out with just one person when I could cover the whole school, anyway?”

           Derek shrugs as he takes his shoes off. He sets them neatly on the rug beside Stiles' tossed ones. “I guess. We haven't really brought anyone else into our stupid _thing_ though. Would you really tell the whole school?”

            Stiles shrugs. “No, it's not my style. I admit, it has entertainment value, but rumours suck. And they can stick.”

            “Don't you hate me enough for that?” Derek asks. He stands awkwardly at the end of the bed.

            Stiles figures if they're going to be stuck in this room for the next two hours before they have to get ready for their first game, they might as well make the most of it. He pats the bed beside him, to assure Derek that he can sit down.

            “I don't hate you at all,” Stiles admits with a shrug. “You piss me off daily, and you're a jerk, but I don't hate you. _Jackson_ , on the other hand...”

            Derek lets out a small laugh as he sits down. He takes a deep breath and then says, “If you didn't tell Paige that I have herpes, who did?”

            “Someone who doesn't want you to be with Paige,” Stiles answers idly. He's kind of curious as to who messed around with Derek too. That's _his_ job. “Didn't you ask her?”

            “No,” Derek says, giving him a raised eyebrow. “I thought I knew.”

            “Well you didn't,” Stiles points out. “Have you pissed anyone off lately?”

            “Uh,” Derek says. “You.”

            “Uh-huh, anyone else?”

            “Not that I know of,” Derek admits.

            “Reject anyone?” Stiles asks. He pulls out his phone to see if Scott had replied to his last text.

            “Kate,” Derek answers. “Kate Argent—she asked me out, and I said no.”

            Stiles nods. “Good choice, dude. She's a little crazy, so I think you've figured out your culprit.”

           Derek rubs his cheek absentmindedly. There's something sweet about the way he looks right now. Stiles notices there's no text from Scott, and sighs heavily. Derek then asks, “Would you retaliate?”

            “What?” Stiles asks.

            “With Kate—would you retaliate what she did to me, or would you leave it?”

            “Depends,” Stiles says. “Has she given you anything else other than herpes?”

            “Hey, herpes is pretty bad,” Derek mutters. “Especially when you unknowingly ask out a girl who thinks you have them.”

            Stiles shrugs. “You _could_. But I wouldn't mess with Kate. Remember what she did to Jackson's car when he turned her down a few years ago?”

            Derek shakes his head.

            “She keyed the _shit_ out of it, and scrawled the word 'Asshole' on the hood. Jackson's father was pissed, but for like five minutes, and then Jackson had a brand new car.” Stiles watches Derek carefully. It's the first time they've held a conversation without yelling. He thinks it mainly has to do with the fact that Derek is preoccupied that someone else is messing around with him. “Your car is too pretty for that, so let her give you herpes.”

            Derek nods slowly. “I guess you're right. Still, what a bitch.”

            Stiles snorts in amusement. “Yeah. Look at us—being all civil and shit.”

            “I can't afford to be cut off the lacrosse team,” Derek responds immediately. Stiles raises an eyebrow but then doesn't verbally respond. Derek adds, after a minute of tense silence passes by them, “I mean it. So I'm glad...that you're not yelling at me.”

            “Pfft, you usually yell first.” Stiles gets up. “Want to keep that up and go hang out with Scott and Isaac? They're rooming with Danny and Ethan.”

            “Sure,” Derek says. He grabs the hotel key card and they both head down the hall.

 

**♚♞♚♞♚♞**

 

            It's not as awkward hanging out in a group with Derek as Stiles would've originally thought. He gets to see him in a different light, and Derek's kind of...funny. Or maybe Stiles' is just horny, so everything Derek says seems to be humorous.

            Scott nudges Stiles and says, “Dude, it's your turn.”

            “Alright, alright,” Stiles says. He points a finger at Danny. “Truth or dare?”

            “Truth,” Danny responds.

            “Have you ever found me attractive?” Stiles asks, grinning.

            Danny shrugs. “You're not _bad_ , Stiles. Just not my type.”

            “Ugh, I'm wounded!” Stiles says, clutching his chest and dramatically falling over as if he'd been shot.

            “You're pathetic, Stilinski,” Ethan tells him, but he's laughing. Stiles has a feeling this is going to be a great dynamic. Ethan knows that Stiles doesn't have a shot in hell with Danny, so he can tease him all he wants, and it won't get weird.

            “Danny's turn to pick someone!” Scott says, excited.

            “Alright, I choose you.” Danny's looking at Derek, who's lying down on the bed with his head peering over the edge. Isaac's beside him, and the rest of them are on the floor.

            Derek says, “Dare.”

            “Oh, you brave, brave boy,” Danny says, laughing. He leans into Ethan, and whispers something in his ear. When Ethan snorts, Danny nods as if that's all the confirmation he needs. “I dare you to kiss Stiles.”

            “No,” Derek says immediately.

            Stiles pouts without knowing it. He's always found Derek attractive—physically, anyway. His personality and how he talks to Stiles on a daily basis needs work though. Stiles glances at Scott to see him wearing his amused puppy look.

            “C'mon, Coach wants you to _bond_. Why not actually _bond_?” Danny says, giggling.

            “We're not kissing each other,” Derek tells them. “Not now.”

            Before anyone can ask what Derek means by _that_ , there's a knock on the door. Then they hear Coach's booming voice. “Time to get your asses out here!”

            They all scramble to get up, and Stiles and Derek rush outside into the hall and down to their room. They didn't bring their uniforms or gear with them. By the curious look on Coach's face, Stiles thinks they might be doing okay.

            “Derek, about Danny—”

            “Don't worry, Stiles. He just likes to embarrass me,” Derek tells him instantly. “He wouldn't have made you uncomfortable.”

            Then Derek's out in the hall again. When Stiles joins him, he feels as if he's lost his footing and keeps falling. Confusion is putting it mildly for how he feels right now. _What the hell_?

 

**♚♞♚♞♚♞**

 

            “God that was a good game!” Scott says, grinning. He high-fives Isaac. “You did _awesome_ , man!”

            “Thanks!” Isaac says, beaming. “Feel like hitting up the pool?”

            “Fuck yes!” Stiles shouts.

            “No pool for you, Stilinski,” Coach shouts from behind them. Stiles stops to look at him. “Or you Hale. Get to your room. Kiss and make up for the past two longest years of my life. Make it a good night, you two.”

            Stiles doesn't bother protesting. He just stomps back to his room without another word. He's not surprised that Derek's stomping behind him, because _this fucking sucks_.

            “We can pretend to like each other,” Stiles starts saying after a half hour passes without any conversation between them, “but I feel as if that's not going to be enough for Coach _ever_.”

            Derek just grunts and flips the page in his book. Stiles turns to look at him over his shoulder. He's been sitting at the desk on the wifi since they got back in, but now he's a little bored. “Derek, do you want to watch a movie or something?”

            He glances over at him. “As long as it isn't stupid.”

            “Well, let's see.” Stiles turns on the television. He joins Derek on the bed, but lies down with his head at the foot of the bed. He flips through some channels, and then pauses on the TV channel guide.

            “ _Back to the Future_ ,” Derek interrupts when it appears on the screen. There's a marathon going. Stiles glances back at him, surprised. “What? It's a classic.”

            “I know,” Stiles murmurs. “It's one of _my_ favourites.”

            Derek looks at him skeptically, but then Stiles puts it on and starts quoting it. Derek rolls his eyes, shoves Stiles' shoulder lightly, and says, “Shut up.”

            The words are said without any heat though, so Stiles just starts quoting it louder, and in his best Doc voice. It makes Derek smile, despite himself, and Stiles starts laughing.

            “You're annoying.”

            “I think you _like_ it,” Stiles tells him.

            Derek doesn't protest.

 

**♚♞♚♞♚♞**

 

            “Let's not watch the third one,” Stiles says as the second one finishes. He glances over at Derek, who is asleep.

            What an idiot, Stiles thinks. He turns off the television and then glances at the time. He supposes he could go to bed now. Stiles gets up though, so that he can pull the comforter over Derek. It's a strangely intimate moment, and Stiles freezes before he drops the comforter. He's sure Derek would've yelled at him if he'd been awake. He lets the comforter go, and Derek shifts to nuzzle into it. He makes the smallest noise.

            It hits Stiles square in the guts. He'd meant it when he'd told Derek that he'd never hated him. There is _no_ possible way anyone could hate Derek after hearing that fucking adorable noise he'd just made in his sleep. Stiles feels his heart pound harder, and just walks around the room to turn off the light. He doesn't crawl back into the bed right away. He just watches Derek sleep and thinks about their relationship.

            The guy wants to be nice because, for whatever reason, he can't be kicked off the lacrosse team. Everything they'd bonded about tonight _hadn't_ been because Derek genuinely liked Stiles. He was just scared to lose his spot on the team. Stiles has to keep reminding himself of that.

            He doesn't mean to fall asleep in the chair, but that's where he wakes up.

 

**♚♞♚♞♚♞**

 

            “I don't feel ready for today's game,” Stiles admits. He glances at Scott, who is grinning at his cell phone. He pats Scott's back. “Allison miss you?”

            “Yeah, I think so.”

            “That's nice,” Stiles tells him, his tone holding a lack of interest.

            “Isaac told me something about Derek,” Scott tells him as they walk towards their bus. Stiles stops him with a hand on the upper arm, and waits. “Apparently Derek's dad lost his job a few months ago. He's banking on a lacrosse scholarship to get him through college, so that's why he hasn't ripped your head off yet.”

            Stiles soaks in the information. “Well, I've been nothing but nice. He hasn't even threatened me since Friday.”

            “Keep it up,” Scott says with a laugh. “We have two more games today, and then you have another bus ride home.”

            “I know, I know,” Stiles says.

            On the trip over to their second game of the weekend, Stiles looks at Derek thoughtfully. Derek _needs_ to be nice to Stiles, because he needs to stay on the team. It must be why his mother was upset with him on Friday, and he probably hadn't felt like discussing it on the phone on the bus ride up to whoever called him. But Stiles had been nice to Derek because he's starting to genuinely like him. Stiles isn't sure he ever _didn't_ like Derek.

            They'd had moments of truces, had moments where they apologized for crossing the line, and they'd most definitely had a few moments of regret. Stiles remembers when Scott yelled at Derek for being a dick on the anniversary of his mother's death. Stiles had left the school early, confused and upset. Derek had found him in the cemetery, and he'd just hugged Stiles close. They must have stayed like that on the bench for close to an hour.

            Stiles had gone up to Derek, yelling about the latest prank, a few months ago. He'd realized quickly that Derek was having a really bad day, so he'd pulled out his favourite cookie that'd he'd just bought and shoved it at Derek. So they're not good at being friends, but hey. They could work on it.

            Stiles wonders if there's ever the remote possibly of Derek liking him, of wanting to be friends. He supposes now he'll never know. Derek just needs the scholarship. Stiles decides he'll help him stay on the team, if only because it's been really nice to be almost-friends with Derek the past two days.

 

**♚♞♚♞♚♞**

 

            “Bilinski, Hale, over here now,” Coach says when they get off the bus back at Beacon Hills High late that night. They both walk over, shoulders down, and brace themselves. On the bus ride back, they'd spoken quietly and hadn't argued about anything. Stiles is surprised, but somewhat proud of them. Then they'd fallen into a silence, and it'd been extremely...comforting.

            “It's Stilinski,” Derek says when they reach Coach.

            “Excuse me?” Coach demands.

            “It's Stilinski. Not Bilinski,” Derek corrects. Stiles can only stare at him, unsure why Derek is correcting Coach. He'd been calling him Bilinski for the past three years. “What did you want to talk to us about, Coach?”

            Stiles watches as Coach grins at them both. “I wanted to congratulate you. I didn't hear one argument during this trip. Did you two talk it out?”

            Stiles glances over at Derek and then answers for them. “We kind of talked. Mainly stayed out of each other's way, I guess.”

            “Think you can do it for the rest of the year?” Coach asks.

            “Sure,” Derek says, shrugging. “As long as I get to stay on the team.”

            “We became companions I guess,” Stiles rushes to say. “Keep Derek on the team. If you're worried about us being an issue, I'll quit.”

           Derek swivels his head around to look at Stiles. He looks like a lost, confused puppy. Coach nods. “Considered it noted, _Stilinski_. Now, get on home. It's been a long couple of days, and contrary to popular belief, I do care about you rugrats.”

            “Thanks, Coach,” Derek says quietly. Coach Finstock walks away, presumably towards his car. Stiles doesn't move, only because Derek doesn't. He just waits, wondering if Derek's upset with him. “Why did you offer to quit the lacrosse team?”

            “Because,” Stiles says, knowing that he would have to answer this. “Isaac told Scott why you need to stay on the team—to get a scholarship. I'm a dick, but I'm not that much of a dick.”

            Derek nods. Then he asks, “You think we're companions?”

            Stiles shrugs. “I guess. I mean, this weekend was kind of forced upon us, but I enjoyed myself.”

            Derek considers this. “Me too, Stiles.”

            “Uh, well, that's, um, great. I guess we should...”

            “Night, Stiles,” Derek says before he's walking away.

            It takes Stiles a bit to tear his gaze away from Derek's ass—back. His back. Then he turns and gets into his Jeep. He doesn't leave right away. His mind is swimming with possibilities, and questions.

 

**♚♞♚♞♚♞**

 

            “I'm sorry man. Allison wants to go check out that new cafe that just opened up,” Scott's telling him the following Thursday. Stiles shrugs and shoves his books into his locker. “Danny and Ethan should be around though.”

            “It's not a big deal,” Stiles assures him. Since it's Thursday, Lydia and Jackson wouldn't be here, and neither would Danny and Ethan. Stiles had been talking to Danny yesterday about his lunch date with Ethan. He's going to officially ask Ethan out today.

            “Are you sure?” Scott asks, frowning.

            Stiles gives him his best reassuring smile. “Positive. Tell Allison I say hi.”

            “You're the best, man!” Scott gives him a quick hug and then he disappears into the crowd. Stiles shuts his locker door and heads to the cafeteria.

            He's starving, so he'll grab something quick to eat, and then head to the library. Perfect solution, Stiles decides. It'll be nice. He can work on his history paper. His teacher had given it back to him with a second chance to actually write about history. He should be counting his lucky stars, really.

            When he sits down at an empty table, and starts to bite into his pizza, he's caught off guard by Derek Hale sitting across from him. He has to focus on chewing.

            “Hi,” Derek says, quietly.

           “Hi,” Stiles says, once he's swallowed his first bite of his pizza. He sets it back down onto the plate. “What are you doing here?”

            “You're sitting alone,” Derek answers as if it explains everything. Stiles' eyebrows draw together. Derek adds, “We're companions, right?”

            “Right,” Stiles says, a smile tugging to get onto his face. “You know companions basically means friends, right?”

            “Right,” Derek confirms. “The actual definition is someone who spends a lot of time with someone else. Or something close to that effect.”

            “Uh-huh,” Stiles says. He takes a smaller bite of his pizza this time. “But we don't _actually_ spend that much time together. It was just because we were forced to for the away game.”

            “We spend a considerable amount of time together,” Derek responds, “if you count the fact that we spent an average of ten minutes a day yelling at each other.”

            Stiles just gives him a grin, amused at Derek's way of saying they've been companions for a while now. He asks, “So did you tell Paige that you don't have herpes?”

            “I did,” Derek says carefully. “But she still doesn't want to date me.”

            “Too bad,” Stiles mumbles.

            Derek shrugs. “It's okay. I'm not sure she's my type anyway—we settled on being friends.”

            “That's nice,” Stiles murmurs. He smiles lightly this time when their eyes meet. “This is nice.”

            “It is,” Derek says, picking up his drink.

 

**♚♞♚♞♚♞**

 

            “Excuse me?” Stiles says, blinking long and hard. Kate Argent is standing in front of him, her expression cool and her voice filled with determination.

            “I wanted to warn you. Derek Hale has syphilis. I noticed you've been spending a lot of time with him, and thought I should warn you. He gave me syphilis,” Kate says with such conviction.

            “Kate, do us both a favour and leave me alone,” Stiles says, rolling his eyes. He pushes pass her to sit down at his usual lunch table.

            Today it's packed. Scott, Allison, and Isaac are chatting away at one end. Lydia and Jackson are bickering about something beside them. Derek sits with an empty seat across from him. Danny, Ethan, and two newbies to their table, Boyd and Erica, complete the other side of the table.

            Some days it's crowded like this, other days it's just Derek and Stiles. But it's nice. It's really, really nice. Stiles slips into his seat. “Guess who has syphilis?”

            “Who?” Derek asks, scrunching his nose.

            “You,” Stiles says, laughing. “Kate just came to warn me off.”

            “My sister?” Allison asks. She frowns when Stiles nods. “Sorry, Derek. She's had the biggest crush on you since grade eight. She gets...intense sometimes. I didn't realize she was telling lies though.”

            “It's fine, Allison,” Derek assures her. “I don't care what people think.”

            “You do a little,” Stiles points out. “You flipped shit when you thought I'd done it.”

            “Yes,” Derek admits. “But that's because I thought _you_ had done it.”

            “What difference does it make?” Stiles asks.

            “Just does,” Derek answers. He picks up his veggies and dip from his lunch tray and puts it on Stiles' tray. So Stiles gives him his bun. “It doesn't matter what Kate says, as long as you know it's not true.”

            “Of course it's not,” Stiles says, snorting. He gives Allison an apologetic look. “Sorry, Allison.”

            “No, no,” she says with a wave of her hand. “She's not exactly my favourite person.”

            “She scares me,” Scott admits.

            That's when Stiles realizes that the entire table is quiet and waiting for Stiles and Derek to keep speaking. He isn't sure what to say to break the silence, and is relieved when Derek clears his throat and does it for him. “I finished reading _The Adventures of Robin Hood_.”

            “And?” Stiles asks, excited. He'd given it to Derek to borrow a few weeks ago.

            “And it was good, like you said.”

            The chatter picks up around them again, and Stiles relaxes. He gives Derek a smile and then says, “C'mon, what's your favourite part?”

            “ _Not_ the epilogue,” Derek tells him with a look. “I mean, I know that Robin Hood has to die, because he's human. But did he have to write that in?”

            “Ugh, _right_? I like to imagine that Robin Hood lived happily ever after, _forever_.”

 

**♚♞♚♞♚♞**

 

            “Hey,” Erica says, walking over to Stiles' locker. He gives her a smile. They haven't talked too much, but from what Stiles knows, he likes her. She's mainly Derek's friend though, and he's not sure if it's in his place to change that.

            “Hey,” he greets. “How are you?”

            “Great, actually. Boyd is going to take me out to dinner tonight. Do you mind telling Derek that we'll have to reschedule until next weekend?” Erica asks him.

            “Yeah, I can do that,” Stiles says, nodding. “Where's Boyd taking you?”

            “I'm not sure. I told him anywhere but _Fancy's_.” Erica snorts. “I don't know why Lydia loves that place.”

            “I think it's where she made her plan for world domination, to be honest,” Stiles says as he shuts his locker closed. Erica snorts.

            “Damn, she should include me in that. Thanks for passing on the message. Tell Derek not to be too broken-hearted.” Erica leans forward and surprises Stiles with a quick hug. She gives him an earnest look when she says, “I'm glad you two finally kissed and made up.”

            “We didn't—” But Erica's gone before Stiles can say, _we didn't kiss_.

            He heads over to Derek's locker, wondering why Erica had wasted her time talking to him at his locker when she could've spent the same amount of time at Derek's. He shrugs it off and leans on the locker beside Derek.

            “Hey.”

            “Hey,” Derek says, shoving a book into his locker. “How are you?”

            “I'm alright. Boyd's taking Erica out to dinner, so she's cancelling plans on you,” Stiles tells him. Derek sighs, looking disappointed. “She says not to be too broken up about it, because you can do it next weekend.”

            Derek shrugs. “I guess. It's the _fourth_ time she's rescheduled.”

            “I know that feel,” Stiles murmurs. It's not said with anger or hurt. “We could hang out if you want.”

            “Yeah, I'd like that,” Derek says with a nod. “I'd rather not sit around home alone with my sisters, though. Want to go out for food?”

            “Sure,” Stiles says. “I have to go home and do some stuff for my dad, but I could meet you in two hours at _Fancy_ ' _s_?”

            Derek nods. “Sounds good. See you then.”

            Stiles turns to leave, and then stops. He looks at Derek and says, “Erica said something funny to me today. She said she's glad we ' _kissed and made up_ '.”

            Derek stills. He only says, “Too bad we didn't.”

            Then he's walking away, leaving Stiles wondering what that means. He calls Lydia to whine about it, but Lydia merely tells him to go for it and then hangs up. _Helpful_.

 

**♚♞♚♞♚♞**

 

            “The food was alright,” Stiles says as they pull up into his driveway later that night. “You didn't have to pay though.”

            Derek puts his car into park, and then shuts the engine off. He gives Stiles a pointed look. “You know how we said we're companions?”

            Stiles shrugs, “Yeah, but—”

            “But I'm not sure I want to just be companions, Stiles.” Derek sighs, rubbing his chin. “It's just you've driven me crazy for two _years_ , and the past four weeks of being _companions_ with you has been...nice.”

            “It has,” Stiles says, nodding.

            “How would you feel if we... _kissed_ and made up?”

            “Were we fighting?” Stiles asks, smiling.

            “We could,” Derek offers. Stiles catches the glimpse of amusement though. “If that's how you want to do it.”

            Stiles snorts. “It's been so long since we've argued, I'm sure I've forgotten how to.”

            “You're an idiot,” Derek says.

            Stiles shifts in the Camaro and leans forward. “You're stupid... _ly cute_.”

            “Nice save, dumbass,” Derek says, leaning closer to Stiles.

            “I don't feel like we're fighting.” Another inch closer.

            “I'm tired of fighting with you.” And then there's no more space between their lips.

            Stiles wonders, somewhere in the back of his cluttered mind, if he's always known a simple kiss from Derek Hale would hit him straight in the guts. If he'd known that he wouldn't want to ever stop kissing him.

            “I like this better than being your companion,” Stiles murmurs when their lips part.

            “Me too. Me too,” Derek says, and pulls Stiles in again. 

           

           

**Author's Note:**

> I love everyone's who's been following this series and supporting me. HALF WAY DONE, BABY! I'm sorry if I'm sometimes too hard on myself (the couple of fics that I've been the most unsatisfied in this series are some of the more popular ones, go figure), but I promise you I'm just a tough person to please. Either way, thank you to everyone who's been sticking with me! 
> 
> I'm going to try my hardest to make sure that the next fifteen stories come out each day (although I've almost missed my mark by 15 minutes twice now, I think aha) and I'll try not to whine about not making my standards.
> 
> Either way, YOU ALL ROCK. And I love you. Come say hi to me on tumblr [ here](www.foxerica.tumblr.com) if you haven't already! I love hearing from you awesome people!


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